


Crash

by Starofwinter



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:39:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9223442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: Killer finally has a chance to breathe after a battle - or not.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kristsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/gifts).



> Rabble, Ruckus, and Mischief belong to [Kristsune!](www.kristsune.tumblr.com)

It’s Ruckus who finds him, curled up in a corner of the ‘freshers and shaking himself apart.  He keeps his voice quiet as he tells Rabble to go find Mischief, and sits down next to Killer, his eyes never leaving their younger brother.  Killer’s white uniform is spattered with dried blood - it’s been almost a full forty-eight hours since the battle, but it’s obvious that he hasn’t left the medbay since, even to change his uniform.  His lavender hair is slipping out of the tight bun he keeps it in while he’s working, falling in wisps around his face, and his eyes are darting anywhere but at Ruckus.  “Hey, vod’ika, can you tell me what happened?” the ARC asks gently, wishing he knew more of the sign language that the medic and Mischief have cobbled together - especially when Killer shakes his head, still not looking at him.  “It’s okay, Mischief is on his way.”  He reaches out to brush Killer’s hair back, but pulls back when he nearly jumps out of his skin at the brush of Ruckus’ hand.

By the time Mischief gets there, Killer has his eyes shut tight, and he isn’t acknowledging Ruckus at all - whether that’s intentional, or whether he’s just so far gone that he doesn’t even recognize that he’s  _ there _ is a serious question.  Mischief takes one look at him and sits down, carefully gathering Killer up in his arms and settling him in his lap.  Instead of flinching the way he had when Ruckus touched him, he buries his face in Mischief’s chest and clings to him while the , shushes him and wraps his arms around him.   _ Safe _ , he writes out on Killer’s shoulder,  _ safe _ .  He’s safe with them, as Ruckus slips out to stand guard with Rabble, leaving them alone so he doesn’t get too overwhelmed with too many people.

The gentle brush of Mischief’s fingers as he spells out reassurances on his shoulder helps Killer relax, bringing him back to himself enough that he slowly stops shaking.  He stays where he is for the moment though, tucked against Mischief’s chest, his head under his chin.  Mischief signs out,  _ what happened? _  Killer just shakes his head, his throat closing up again at the idea of talking about anything he’s seen in the last two days; the battle was the worst he’s seen in a long time, and too many brothers died under his hands, no matter how hard he tried to save them.   His hand tightens in Mischief’s shirt again, but before he can start hyperventilating again, the ARC holds him a little tighter with one hand, the other making the sign for  _ okay _ .  He doesn’t have to talk if he doesn’t want to.  They can stay right where they are for a little while.  Rabble and Ruckus keep an eye out for anyone else, but as late as it is, no one’s likely to show up.  They all know that no one save a handful of people can know how bad Killer gets, and none of them will let him be taken away for his anxiety.

Eventually, Killer struggles to his feet, shaky but determined, and strips down to shower off the filth of the last couple of days, shameless despite Mischief’s presence.  The ARC captain heads over to Ruckus and Rabble to give him a little privacy, but it’s not long before Killer is finished, and he slumps down on one of the metal benches once he’s mostly dressed in clean clothes, his legs giving out from under him as stress and a lack of food, water, and sleep catch up to him.  Mischief is there in the space of a breath, and he doesn’t give the medic a chance to protest - he lifts Killer, carrying him out and back to the bunk he and his brothers share.  As he lays back, Ruckus and Rabble climb in with them, all three of them pressing in close.  Mischief only signs one word.   _ Rest _ .  Killer doesn’t argue, just closes his eyes and lets sleep take him.


End file.
